


Toasty

by waterfallliam



Category: Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: Kissing, M/M, Naked Cuddling, Other Characters Are Mentioned, Rain, Sharing Body Heat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-01
Updated: 2018-01-01
Packaged: 2019-02-26 08:49:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13232265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waterfallliam/pseuds/waterfallliam
Summary: “Newton, what are you doing now?”“Body heat, Hermann. We can huddle like penguins do.”





	Toasty

**Author's Note:**

> my fic for the tumblr 2017 pacrim holiday swap! my prompt was shared warmth and a view (what a great prompt!!)  
> a big thank you to [paenteom](http://archiveofourown.org/users/paenteom) for beta-ing!  
> hope you enjoy :)

2022

“I’m cold. It’s too cold out here,” Newt decides, hugging his chest. They’re standing on the roof of the Shatterdome, huddled by the door, looking out onto the sea.

“Of course it’s cold, Newton. When is it not cold?” Hermann says somewhat snidely. He has a portable heater, two extra blankets and a hot bottle in his room.

“Yes, but it’s raining, too. That makes it worse!” Newt gestures at the sky, pebble grey and ready to burst. It’s drizzling, really, but Hermann holds his tongue. Even with his green parka, he can’t help but shiver.

“I suppose,” Hermann huffs, a raindrop falling on his nose. It runs over his lips in a parody of a kiss, slides over his jaw and then down his neck, the chill making him squirm. At least the lip of the roof on the door is protecting them from some of the rain.

“Hermann, I’m cold,” Newt repeats, looking at Hermann pleadingly.

Hermann narrows his eyes. “Well, wearing that jacket, you can’t be too surprised.”

Newt’s leather jacket is thin and unsuited for the weather. He clutches at it now, trying to cocoon his body in the fabric. Hermann wonders if the jacket might rip. Newt’s white shirt would be exposed to the rain, the drops reaching his skin through the fabric, making it translucent.

“Do you want to go back inside?” Hermann asks.

“No, we need to see this. You helped with the new coding.”

“Not if it means you catch cold. You’ll get sick, which inevitably always means I’ll get sick, and then–”

“I’m not missing this,” Newt interrupts, stepping closer. He stops when his right arm is pressed against Hermann’s. For a second, Hermann thinks he’s going to lay his head on his shoulder.

“Newton, what are you doing now?”

“Body heat, Hermann. We can huddle like penguins do.”

Hermann remembers a documentary he had seen as a child: a waddle of emperor penguins standing close together between snow capped hills. When fresh snow blew in, it had looked like powdered sugar on their sleek, black backs. They would take turns standing at the edge, so that everyone had a turn in the middle where it was warmest.

“There’s only two of us,” Hermann points out.

“Well, thinking warm thoughts hasn’t helped.”

“I doubt you can feel much through my jacket,” Hermann says. It hangs off him, light and loose, the padding designed to store heat, not leak it.

Newt doesn’t move. “I’m not going inside Hermann. Even if I have to watch this on my own.”

Hermann sighs. “I won’t leave you, but this can’t go on.” He reaches for the zipper at his throat, tugs it down. “Come on.”

Newt looks at him, uncharacteristically slow at grasping the concept at hand. “You want me to—”

“Yes, yes, come on. If you must insist on staying here, then you shouldn’t freeze to death.”

Newt steps in front of him, hesitates. He’s so close that Hermann can see the individual raindrops that stick to his hair. “But I’ll–I’ll get you wet.”

“And that would be the first time? I am well aware of what I’m offering,” Hermann says, almost swallowing his tongue.

“Oh,” Newt says, his hands clenched around his collar. He spins himself into the space Hermann has created. His back is flush against Hermann’s argyle sweater, his hair soft against his nose and lips. It smells good.

“Right,” Hermann grumbles and pushes Newt’s head to the side a bit. “Help me, would you?” He holds one side of the coat in place with his free hand as Newt does the zip up.

“It’s super nice of you to do this, you know. You really don’t have to. I’m totally fine, it’s just a little bit of cold and–”

“Newton, shut up.” It’s a tight fit, with Newt’s feet beside his own, Newt’s body pressed against him, feeling his every movement.

Newt leans his head back against Hermann’s shoulder gently, giving him time to protest before letting any substantial weight rest there. “I never expected you to be cuddly,” Newt says, his voice almost a whisper.

“Interesting to think how many surprises I might have in store for you if only you paid attention,” Herman smiles. 

“Oh,  _ my _ observational skills are lacking? When’s the last time you ate?”

Hermann blinks, the rain and the sea and the mist disappearing for a split-second. “This morning.”

“An energy bar hardly counts as a meal,” Newt imitates Hermann. “Isn’t that what you always say?”

“Fine,” Hermann concedes. “We’ll go to the cafeteria after this.”

They stand there in silence, a few raindrops hitting the front of Hermann’s coat. Hermann notices how empty his stomach feels, how the cold bites at his hands and feet and face.

Newt shifts his weight a little, and Hermann feels the shift of his chest, his legs against his own. Even through their layers of clothing, the friction against his groin is unmistakable. Hermann bites his lip, tries to focus on the lull of the sea lapping against the docks.

Newt breaks the silence: “What’s taking them so long?”

“Probably the weather.”

“It’s always the weather,” Newt huffs, his hair tickling Hermann’s neck as he talks. “That, or technical difficulties.”

“At least it’s not a 2000 ton alien shaped problem. That would be the last thing we need right now. It’s not something this world needs, period. There’s still so much else to figure out.”

“I still want to see one up close," Newt mumbles. His words would be lost in the faux fur edge of Hermann's hood were it not for the fact that they were so close.

"Do you really have that much of a death wish?" His grip on his cane tightens as he says it.

"What? No. It's just so frustrating to be stuck studying leftovers when the real deal is walking about! It's not like the dinosaurs or anthropology where we're studying leftover bones and fossils, trying to piece it all together. Kaiju walk amongst us."

"Yes, well, if it's all the same to you, I'd rather you live through this," Hermann says, flippancy barely masking desperation.

They're both quiet for a few minutes.

“Thank you, you know, for this,” Newt says, turning his head slightly as if to look at Hermann’s face.

“Of course,” Hermann says, as if they do this all the time. As if he doesn't get distracted staring at the ink on Newt's arms a bit too much. As if he hasn't lain awake at night imagining what it would be like to stand so close, to be held by those strong arms

They watch as the scarlet Jaeger walks through water, spinning it’s three arms about, graceful and lethal. The Wei Tang triplets show off their moves, which are more succinctly graceful than ever before, inspiring cheers and whoops from the docks.

Above, Newt and Hermann watch on, close as velcro and warm as toast.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


 

 

 

 

 

 

 

2024

"What’s on your mind?" Hermann asks, idly reaching to fix Newt's hair. They're laying side by side in bed, Hermann's heater blasting at full capacity.

"I can't believe I ever thought you weren't one for cuddles," Newt says, smiling widely.

"Oh?" Hermann chuckles, rolling so that he's draped half on top of Newt.

"Yeah." Newt reaches around them, enveloping them in their duvet.

Hermann sighs contentedly and lays his head on Newt's chest, staring at the blue horn above his nipple.

"You know, I've never wanted to cuddle with someone as much as I do with you," Hermann says, feeling the rise and fall of Newt's chest, his head moving with it ever so slightly.

"Aww.” Newt leans down to press a kiss on the crown of his head.

Hermann turns his face towards Newt’s. "Are you ever surprised that we ended up here?"

"No. We were always looking for the action, and this is definitely where it's at. Last man standing against the apocalypse, like Stacker says."

Hermann is suddenly reminded of the letters they used to send each other when the Kaiju first started attacking. It was before they met, before the war threatened everything with the finality of annihilation. He had spent long hours writing into the night, sharing things he had never dared say out loud before. When the scientific community ignored him, Newt had listened. 

Later, the others had all come around. Later, when their nightmares walked in daylight.

"I meant us," Hermann says. What he remembers most strongly from those days of paper and ink smears was how close he felt to Newt, despite how far away they were from each other. He would read passages again and again, Newt's words warming his heart from miles and miles away. It had been good to know he had a friend, to know he wasn’t the only one who was scared; to know he wasn't alone.

"Oh, well..." Newt trails off, frowning. "I never knew, especially not after, you know... when we first met. And then met again. But I'm so happy now." 

Hermann trails a hand up Newt's chest, rubs his thumb round Newt's nipple. Newt's breath catches. Hermann smiles and keeps going. Newt's skin is warm under his touch, a bit dry, too. It's not really going anywhere, but it doesn't need to. They have the whole day off.

"Yeah. Somehow, you yelling at me about entrails is still sexy. Stupidly sexy." Newt stares at him now, at his face, his lips.

"Don't tell me you disregard the line on purpose," Hermann says, lifting his head.

"What? No."

"Good." Hermann leans in for a kiss. It's charged with heat, like a slow burning log fire that will last all night long. He moves his hand to cup Newt's jaw, falling into a rhythm of shared breaths as easily as he sets out equations.

Like equations, there's a balance to kissing. A give and take, a push and pull. Their lips slide against each other. Hermann deepens the kiss, wishing he could set this moment against infinity. He would map out their relationship: a twisting and turning curve that finally settles on an exponential climb.

They kiss for a while, sweet and unhurried. Occasionally Hermann tweaks Newt's nipple or tugs on his hair, Newt gasping into his mouth in response. Newt kisses the corner of his mouth, along his jaw, down, down his throat.

"No hickeys above my collar," Hermann warns, his voice stern as his body melts against Newt. 

“Sure babe,” Newt says, his breath hot against Hermann’s skin.

Hermann is pliant in Newt's strong grip, fluid. He barely notices how the duvets slides down his back. Despite the heater, a chill whispers along his back. He's not cold, not really. He's pressed against the soft heat of Newt's body.

Hermann feels like a geometric spiral, falling in ever tighter, perfect circles towards Newt, towards heat; towards the heart of love itself. His kisses are saccharine, drawn out, coy and wolfish all at the same time. For just a little while, they burn like the sun, sustaining the space in the world that they’d carved out for themselves.

Eventually they slow down, content to hold each other. "You want to spoon for a bit?" Newt asks.

Hermann caresses Newt's skin, tracing the lines of his various tattoos before coming to rest at the bottom of his sternum, where his body forms a natural valley.

"I'm comfortable where I am for now,"

"Are you sure?"

"I'm... enjoying the view," Hermann smirks, his chin resting on his folded fingers.

Newt splutters. "Did you really just…”

“What? Did I really just what?” Hermann teases. 

Newt shakes his head, smiling with his eyes. They are warm and green and looking right at him. For now, they are all that Hermann sees.


End file.
